Chapter 31
"Percy...?"
It was just a dream, but she looked so real he immediately reached out to grab her arms.
"Woah!" Irene laughed, pulling back. "I didn't know you were so eager."
"You... you feel so real..."
She raised an eyebrow. "Everything in our body is regulated by our mind. Isn't that what you said? If that's true, then of course I feel real. Your mind wants me to feel real to you."
"I..." He could hardly speak without choking up. The guilt of what happened weighed on his shoulders like a brick house. "I'm so sorry."
She put a hand on his shoulder and patted him gently. "It's okay, Percy. You can't save everyone. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made."
Percy blinked through his dream tears. "Why can't it be me for once? Why can't I be the one that dies valiantly trying to save the ones I care about? Why do I have to survive and carry on?"
"You're too afraid to die, aren't you?" she asked. "I was too. To be honest, I don't know how I felt as I fell because I only know what you know, Percy. So maybe I can't say I'm afraid to die as well. But I probably was."
"I'm sorry, Irene."
"Don't be. I made my choice. I wanted to save you, no matter the cost."
"I never should have become immortal."
"Don't say that." Irene stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. "I had the opportunity to live a life because you became immortal. Without the Everlasting Hero, I would have died that day in Troy, choking to death in the fire after living a terrible, wasted life. I never would have had the chance to be human, even if it took me down a treacherous road."
"Wasted life? You were a Trojan princess."
"Princess, perhaps. But I was, first and foremost, a woman. And the desire to keep the royal blood within the family continued onward. I was not treated well, especially with Aeneas antagonizing Priam the way he did." She sighed. "The Trio... Xanthe and Leon know more about this. They can tell you if you ask nicely."
"Xanthe and Leon...?" Percy blinked. "But you're a figment of my imagination. How would you know something I don't?"
"I may be a figment of your imagination, but that doesn't mean I'm not altered by Morpheus," Irene pointed out with a smirk. "The Irene you knew is gone. She exists solely in your memories... and in the memories of the lives she touched. That's who I am, Percy. A combination of the prints Irene left behind in this world."
"Morpheus?" Percy tried grabbing Irene, but this time she was transparent. "No! No, Irene! Irene!"
"Where do you think that void led to, Percy?" she asked, her voice getting hollower by the second. "To where do you think I fell?"
"Tar... Tartarus."
"No mortal ever returns from Tartarus. Some Titans don't even return. Irene is gone, Percy. And it's your fault."
"It's not my fault!" Percy's anger returned. He lashed out at the ghostly image of Irene in front of him, and she dissipated like water vapour. "Morpheus! Come back here, swine! You're just a lackey of the Olympians. If this is your way to try to get me to give up and stop, I'm having none of it! I will destroy everything because of you. You took everything from me. I'll go to the depths of Tartarus if I have to! I'll find and rescue Irene and bring Kronos back to raze Olympus to the ground!"
The floor disappeared from underneath his feet and he fell into the darkness below.
...
The darkness shifted into another scene...
...
He was in his old home in Athens, watching himself beg on his knees. Irene was lying on the ground in the main area, severely injured.
"Please!" Other Percy begged.
Asclepius shook his head. He glanced at the sky, then at the ground. "I used to give out the Physician's Cure like candy, Percy. Zeus killed me because of it. I... I can't help you. I'm sorry."
Irene lay on the cot, dry blood staining her youthful face.
The son of Apollo closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "Percy, I've seen many people die. And you have too. It's... it's what makes humans so different from the gods. Us immortals... we can never die. We live forever, never forgetting the past. In truth, it just makes us arrogant. It makes us proud and believe that we are better than we truly are. But a human has the potential to grow beyond that. Life should be cherished because you can only live it once... at least, with the same memory."
"I... I've lived for too long," Other Percy said, his voice cracking. "I shouldn't have survived. Irene... Irene can't die before me. I... I owe it to her."
With a start, he realized he was watching something that never happened. No, rather, he was watching a possibility, something that could have happened. He saw a sculpture in the background. It was a statue of the Trio, all grown up with families, posing for a sculpter. All kinds of Eastern Roman artwork decorated the home, some of which he couldn't even identify.
Asclepius pressed his lips together tightly. He walked over to a box and produced a drink. Nectar. The doctor offered it to him. "Drink this. You look tired."
Other Percy took the nectar and began to drink. Percy could feel exactly what Other Percy was feeling. And he hated it. Nectar didn't taste like it was supposed to. Nectar used to always remind him of home, of his mother. But now, it tasted like sand. Grainy, dry and tasteless. He could feel Other Percy's body rejecting the nectar, refusing to let it heal his wounds.
"You should go," Other Percy told the healer. Other Percy looked up at Asclepius, who was staring at Irene's body. The god's gaze was sad and conflicted.
"Cherish these days, Percy." The son of Apollo turned to him, his eyes brimming with tears. "Don't snap. Live life."
Life?
No.
Death.
The world shimmered, and he saw himself reappear in the kitchen.
"Hey, Irene," Other Percy said as he prepared a meal. "You healing up okay?"
Silence.
Other Percy winced as the flames licked at his hands. "Ow! Why don't these flames like me? Do you think they hold a grudge because I bad mouthed Hephaestus?"
Irene didn't say anything. She was still lying almost motionless on the ground.
He cooked the meat slowly, ensuring that everything was properly done. He'd done this many times before, but he knew Irene was picky with her meals. She'd never let him cook ever since they started working together.
"I wasn't wrong, was I?" Other Percy laughed. "I gave up on revenge for you. Remember?"
Other Percy glanced at his reflection in Anaklusmos' blade. He usually kept himself clean-shaven, but it looked like he had no time to groom himself. Stubble grew haphazardly around his face, making him look like he'd aged ten years.
"You used to tell me I looked like an adult sometimes. When my facial hair was well-groomed, you always told me how similar I looked to Poseidon. I'm not sure whether I should be happy or sad when you say that. Like, sure, my dad's cool and all, but I'm totally better looking. Right?"
Not a chance, Irene's phantom voice whispered.
"You're a good liar." Other Percy smiled. The food was cooked. "Hey, the food is done. Ready to eat?"
Other Percy finished preparing their dishes. He walked over to her and set their tupperware down.
"Time to eat."
Other Percy ate slowly, watching her with a sad smile. Her features glowed in the light of the fire. Her lips were slightly parted, scarred from whatever terrible injury she'd suffered. Her chest rose and fell lightly.
"You should eat a little, too."
Other Percy turned away from her.
"You should try some of this food. I... I made it really well, you know."
Irene's unconscious body didn't move.
"When you wake up, I'll definitely have some food waiting for you. Don't worry."
He reached over and grabbed a pitcher of water. Gently, he poured the water into her mouth and down her throat.
"Please, Irene. Wake up soon."
...
Night turned to day...
...
Clip, clop, clip, clop.
Other Percy looked up. "Is someone there?"
"Percy..."
Chiron appeared in the doorway, giving his old tutee a sad smile.
"Chiron!" Other Percy smiled and walked over. He embraced his old teacher. "What are you doing here?"
The centaur's tail swooshed nervously. "Ah, well, I was hoping we could have a chat. I've heard that... you've been caught in a difficult fight."
Percy nodded.
The centaur pursed his lips. For a moment, there was complete silence. Dread and sorrow were pushing up through Other Percy's throat, but he shoved those emotions away. He had to believe that Irene was going to be okay. He had to believe that she would survive.
"Shall I try some magic?" Chiron suggested, gesturing to Irene's body. "Perhaps... she'll heal faster."
Other Percy nodded. "Sure. Go ahead."
He watched as the centaur pulled a variety of herbs and plants from his pack. He mixed them together in a stone bowl and muttered incantations, infusing them with magic. The sweet aroma of honey filled the air, and somehow Percy felt his chest expand. A breath of fresh air filled his body and he felt rejuvenated.
Chiron began to apply it to Irene.
"Remember our conversation after the Trojan War?" Other Percy asked suddenly. The thought suddenly came to mind.
"I remember a lot of things, Percy."
He smiled and stared at Chiron's eyes. The centaur concentrated hard on healing Irene, but his ears were perked up and ready to listen.
"Remember how innocent I was back then, believing that everything would work out? You told me that loss is just something we must deal with. But, at the same time, we must stay positive through tough times. Even in the most horrible of times, Elpis rests with humanity. That one may find comfort and love if they remember to believe."
"Belief is important," Chiron nodded. "Belief leads to thoughts. Thoughts lead to actions. Actions lead to habits. And habits lead to your character. After all, your character determines your destiny."
Other Percy stared at Irene's cold, pale body. His chest tightened in pain. "How long does it take for someone to crack?"
Chiron paused and looked up.
Other Percy couldn't stop his voice from shaking as he spoke. "When Apollo and Ares conspired against me, I was angry. But it was rational. I was blamed and shunned for something ridiculous and out of my control. I was exiled, and I fled to the east. I saw horrors that would make anyone go insane. But I held it together. I came back, exacted my revenge, and once Irene convinced me of the horrors of what I'd done, I stopped immediately."
"Percy..." Chiron said softly. "You are brave and—"
"But what happened after?" Other Percy continued, interrupting his old teacher. "I tried to hide. I tried to live a normal life. After Irene convinced me to stop, I felt like everything was on its right course. But then the problems started again. It seems like the whole world is against me sometimes, Chiron. Like the Fates want me to suffer. Like the gods want to see me fall. Even Artemis and Athena, who once protected me from Zeus' rage, turned their backs on me."
The centaur was at a loss for words. He looked down, his gaze sorrowful.
"Tell me Irene will survive. Because I don't know what I'll do if she's gone. When I began, I had you and Jason. Then I had Atalanta and Theseus and Periclymenus. After, I had you and Achilles. For a while, I was lost. I grasped onto the thinnest straws, believing revenge was the right path forward. But I couldn't. It was too painful. Irene... Irene saved me. She can't possibly..." His voice cracked. "She can't die. I can't let her die. Because it would be my fault."
Chiron stopped applying the medicine. He sat back and shook his head. "Percy, those are dangerous thoughts. Do not believe you can control the Fates. Please, Percy."
"Why not?" Other Percy clenched his fists. "Why can't I be left alone for once?"
"Percy..." Chiron sighed. "It may be time to let go..."
"Nothing has happened yet!" Other Percy snapped.
A cold feeling settled in his veins. He looked at Irene.
So did Chiron.
"My boy..."
"Nothing will happen!" Other Percy shouted, glaring at Chiron and silencing his old master.
...
The dream shifted scenes again...
...
Other Percy went to grab water from the kitchen.
Zoë stared at Irene's body quietly without judgment or analysis. Just blankly, full of regret and sorrow.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
Zoë watched him sadly. "Percy..."
"She'll be fine," he insisted, knowing what she was thinking.
They fell into silence.
Other Percy continued to tend to Irene as she lay there. Her heart still pounded. Her breath was still warm. She was clinging to life. It was only a matter of time before she recovered. He had to have faith. Giving up would only lead to pain and desolation.
"Do you really care for her?"
Other Percy looked up. Zoë stared at him, her eyes dark and unreadable.
He grabbed Irene's cold hand and nodded. "Yes, I do."
"Why?"
He frowned. "What do you mean 'why?'"
"Why do you care for her?" She looked down. "Why did you stop your revenge for her?"
Other Percy looked lost in thought. Percy could understand. He thought back to their early days. Sure, she had been annoying at first. Her sword and his blade had clashed many times. But when it came down to it, she stuck by his side and helped him recover from his humiliation and desperation. When the world seemed to turn on him, she was there by his side.
"In all honesty, there isn't one concrete reason," Other Percy sighed. "I think... just after what I went through, I wanted some stability and peace. Irene brought that. It's funny how it all works out. We're both immortal warriors... fighters. Our lives were contingent on the fact that we fought for a living. We were servants of the gods. In the end, being human is what really saved us. She showed me that you can love life, love people."
Zoë watched him with an indiscernible expression. "Right."
"You have your family, too, right?" He gave her a smile. "The Hunters."
She nodded. "Yes. I do."
"I guess... our path ends here."
Zoë furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
Other Percy took Anaklusmos from his hair and handed it over to her. "I think... I no longer deserve to wield your sword."
"I..." She looked at the hair pin and closed it in her fist. "I suppose you are right."
"Anaklusmos was the sword that really started it all," he said. "After Heracles gave it to me, I had those dreams about you. Dreams about how I had to save you. It was a symbol of our partnership and friendship. But... I used it to kill. I used it to do unspeakable things. And, in the process, I tore us apart. I tried to give up fighting, but I couldn't bear to throw Anaklusmos away. In the end, I just used you. As an excuse."
Zoë shot him a pained expression. "That's... partially my fault as well. I never intended to harm you. I never intended to... to treat your life and happiness the way I did."
"I guess we're both forgiven," he chuckled.
She eyed his hand, and he realized he was still holding onto Irene's hand tightly.
"Will you be okay?" she asked.
Other Percy looked at Irene. "I'm sure I will."
Zoë pursed her lips. "I just don't want you to return to the horrible self you became after your exile. If there's one thing I can thank Irene for, it's that she's turned you back into a good person. Just like you used to be."
Other Percy took a sip of his water. He tried to ignore the growing pain in his chest.
Zoë pursed her lips, recognizing his discomfort. She stood up. "Perhaps I should be going."
He took a deep breath and stood up. "If that is what you wish..."
She put a hand on his shoulder and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Promise me you'll be okay?"
Other Percy forced a grin. "Of course. I'll be great!"
Doubt flickered in her eyes, but she nodded and moved toward the exit. As she reached the door, she stopped and turned around.
"Percy... can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"Remember that day when I tried to convince you that Irene was going to do something stupid if you continued your revenge?"
Percy saw his other self nod, still feigning that smile.
"She was going to sacrifice her life to save you."
"I know."
"And you believed me."
"Yeah, I did."
"Thank you." Zoë gave him a small smile. "Thank you for believing me that day and not letting her do something stupid like that."
"You're welcome."
"But... maybe she was fated to die, Percy. As long as she chose to stand next to you, maybe her fate was to die."
His other self's smile died.
"I'm sorry," Zoë apologized. She looked down, tears in her eyes. "Irene was... is a good friend of mine too. I shouldn't say that... I'll be going now."
Other Percy waved after her retreating figure.
"Irene. Wave goodbye to Zoë."
Irene's still body didn't move.
...
Another scene shift...
...
Other Percy stepped back into the house. He dropped off the food in the kitchen and went to visit Irene.
"I'm back."
His voice echoed in the empty room.
Kneeling by her side, he touched her forehead. It was cold.
"Irene...?"
He rolled the blanket off her body. She looked discoloured... unnatural. The bottom half of her arms looked slightly darker than the upper half. Percy tried lifting her arm, expecting it to flop around limply. But her arm was stiff, as if her muscles were resisting.
Percy knew better than to think she had recovered. He'd seen this too many times before.
With gentle fingers, Other Percy checked for some sign of life. Breaths from her mouth and nose. The beating of the heart within her chest. Circulation of some sort.
Nothing.
Other Percy's hand settled to the floor slowly. Pain? Sorrow? Numbness? He wasn't sure what he was feeling. It was as if nothing mattered anymore. His mind was blank, his expression was calm and unmoving.
Death was something he had flirted with for centuries.
Over the years, he'd come to accept death. It was natural, after all. For any mortal, once life had been completed, death followed. Calm and inevitable. As if going to sleep forever. He'd journeyed to the Underworld several times. Spoke with the spirits of many of the heroes he'd helped and trained. They all seemed at peace in some way.
Death was kinder than life.
Percy knew that for certain. So did Other Percy. But why did people want to live? Because it was exciting.
If death was calm and serene, life was wild and unpredictable.
Life.
What did life mean?
Percy used to question that. After slaughtering countless Romans, he'd questioned if he even had the right to be a hero. Not to mention an immortal one. He'd given up any hope of glory to become an immortal hero that helped the gods. And, in return, his life was made a mockery. Everything he touched seemed to disintegrate and die.
But regardless of the unknown, of the uncertainty of the emotions bubbling within him, there was one solid truth he knew. The only certainty of the world around him lay right in front of his eyes. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, whether he wanted to believe it was all just a dream. Neither of those changed the reality.
Irene was gone.
A Long Time Ago BCE
Trojan War - 9th Year
Troy
"Here you go, Princess Cassandra," Percy said. He set a platter full of food down in front of her. "Hopefully it's not too much."
"Thank you," she replied with a smile. She looked at the platter. "I suppose we could share. If you want some of the food..."
"I'll eat your leftovers," he told her.
Cassandra nodded and began to enjoy the food.
Percy fell back onto his bed, spreading his arms out like an angel. He yawned, finishing with a heavy sigh.
"What's wrong?" Cassandra asked in between bites of food.
He rolled over so that he could see her without sitting up. "Who said there's something wrong?" he asked.
Cassandra raised her eyebrows. "I think I've seen enough of you during the past nine years to understand how you feel. You don't sigh like that when everything is fine. You seem troubled." Her expression softened. "Tell me what's wrong. I may be able to help you fix your problems."
Percy considered for a moment. Then he sighed again. "Fine. Agamemnon wants either you or Brisēís as compensation for the loss of Chryseis, his little captive he was forced to give back."
She pursed her lips and stopped eating for a moment.
He nodded and rolled back onto his backside. It wasn't like he was expecting her to suddenly come up with an amazing piece of advice to help him address the situation.
"Why?" Cassandra asked suddenly. "Why would Agamemnon demand such a thing? Are we property to be traded back and forth between men?"
"Most men think so," Percy said flatly. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I don't believe in that, but you'd be hard pressed to find many Achaeans who think the same way I do. Of course, I am treating you like property. I restrict where you can go and what you can do. But I try to constrict you in a way that I'm keeping you safe. I try not to infringe on your freedoms too much."
"We women of Troy are strong," she told me. "Me, Brisēís, Andromache, Irene. All of us."
"I don't doubt that," Percy chuckled.
"If only Diana were more respected by the Achaeans..." Cassandra mused.
"Diana?" Percy turned to face her.
"Some Trojans call her by that name instead of Artemis," she explained. "Sometimes I've heard others call a couple of the gods Veneris and Mavros, though I'm not sure which ones they are talking about."
Percy's vision tunneled. A threat stirs. They're changing! A new threat will arise! Beware the one called Veneris and the one called Mavors! Do not show mercy! Kill all of the Anatolians!
"Percy! Are you okay?"
He blinked, and Cassandra came into view. She had moved forward from her position and was reaching out to him with an outstretched hand. She rested her palm on his cheek and brushed it lightly with her thumb.
"You just went as white as the marble columns in Athens," she said with a concerned expression on her face. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah... I'm fine..." he lied.
She clearly didn't believe it, but let it pass. The Trojan princess shuffled over to his bed and laid down next to him, stretching her arms out like he had earlier. Her slender arm rested on his chest.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"You're not going to die, you know," Cassandra said softly. "You're not the one that's going to die in the prophecy." She paused and sighed. "I've always wondered what would have happened if Apollo had raped me that night instead of cursing me. Would I have a child?"
"Likely," Percy replied. He craned his head to look at her. "Who is going to die, then?"
She blinked a few times, as if she was processing his words. Then she sat up and stared at him with big blue eyes. "You... You believe me?"
"Well... yeah." He shrugged his shoulders. "Why?"
"Only Brisēís has ever believed my predictions," she marveled. "The only way someone can believe what I prophesize is if they look at me as more than just an individual. They have to really, really..." She looked down, pink tinting her cheeks.
"You okay?" He grinned at her embarrassment.
"I'm fine," she lied, using the exact same tone he had just a few moments ago.
He laughed at her.
At first, she sulked, but the girl had changed a lot since the time they first met. Soon, she was also laughing at herself. The two of them filled the tent with jovial laughter that probably could be heard all over the Myrmidon camp.
Once they calmed down, Cassandra took a deep breath and explained what she meant, "You're not going to die in his war, Percy. Whatever your fears are... don't worry. You will survive. You will always survive, even when it seems like your end has come. I can't promise that it will always bring you happiness. But you get another chance, even if you've fallen down."
He watched her eyes carefully.
"You joined this war because you want to kill Helen, right? To punish her for betraying Achaea and her honor?"
"That's... my main intention, I suppose..."
"Well, you know that it's going to lead to the demise of Troy. Paris, so long as he lives, will do anything in his power to protect her. And Priam will do everything in his power to fight to the last Trojan, as revenge for Achaeans taking his sister and not giving her back. To kill Helen, you will need to destroy Troy."
Percy pressed his lips together in a tight line. "There isn't just one way to do things, Cassandra. I've been thinking... if I can infiltrate Troy..."
"You would never be able to," Cassandra said, shaking her head. "Troy's walls are impenetrable for a reason."
"I..."
"Even at this point, you have seen enough of Hector to respect him," Cassandra told him. "You've had your doubts about the war. All this killing and slaughter? For what? One woman?"
Percy looked down. He didn't have anything to say. She was right.
"You want to destroy everything yet you don't want to destroy everything. Even aloud it sounds confusing and contradictory. Let me ask you this, then. If it came down to my life, or Zoë's life, would you sacrifice the world to save us?"
He couldn't meet her eyes. Would he? Could he?
"The Percy that I've come to appreciate would do anything to accomplish his goals. From my perspective, I find it admirable. But that's because your goals, while I have known you, have not been cruel or destructive. You want Helen to give up yet you hesitate when it comes to destroying Troy. You want to protect the women captured by the Myrmidons in battle as best as you can from the main Achaean army. You want me to live as best as I can in these difficult circumstances. And you have done your best to try and accomplish these."
He nodded silently.
She bit her lip. "But I'm a little afraid of a Percy whose goal is to destroy the enemy. I'm afraid that you'll tear everything down to get what you want."
"I... don't know..." he mumbled.
"If you ever get those thoughts... I'm afraid that it would take a miracle to get you to stop."
"Then... I'll try and think of someone I love."
"What do you mean?"
"In times of crisis, when I feel like I'm being torn apart, when the world around me is collapsing, I'll think of someone I love. For them, I'll stop. For them, I'll get rid of whatever grudge I have."
"Will you?"
"I will."
Just so y'all know, I released a new story called Surgo, about a Roman Percy. If that sounds remotely interesting, check out the first chapter and see if it's something that may be worth continuing. Anyway, hope you all are having a good July so far, and be safe!
Sharky